Seeing is Believing
by butterflybeautyrush
Summary: When Sam notices Dean keeping something from him, tension flares in the midst of the boys' newly formed relationship. Sam struggles to figure out what's wrong with Dean, and when he does, he finds an interesting way to confront the problem. Wincest. Established relationship. Angst and fluff.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: When Sam notices Dean keeping something from him, tension flares in the midst of the boys' newly formed relationship. Sam struggles to figure out what's wrong with Dean, and when he does, he finds an interesting way to confront the problem. Wincest. General time. Established relationship. Angst & fluff galore.

Disclaimer: Supernatural and the boys do not belong to me.

Warnings: M/M mature content

* * *

Shoving the door open, Sam lumbered across the motel threshold, balancing a pizza box in one hand and a six-pack in the other. After the day they'd had, the Winchester brothers needed a relaxing evening and Sam had volunteered to go get the necessary provisions. All Sam wanted at this point was to settle into the couch and watch mindless T.V. with his brother at his side. Maybe Dean would even permit them to sit close enough to each other to allow for a little making out. He was never sure about how Dean would respond to him, but Sam licked his lips at the thought and moved to set the food and drinks down on the table.

As he toed off his boots and dropped his jacket on the back of a chair, Sam registered the sound of the shower running and smirked. This could just turn out to be the perfect ending to an exhausting day. Eagerly, Sam stripped down to his boxers and entered the bathroom as quietly as possible, sliding out of his underwear just as he reached to pull the curtain aside. No more than two rings had coasted across the bar before Dean's soapy fingers curled around the flimsy plastic and stopped the motion. "What are you doing?" His voice rang out through the room, the words sounding slightly too high-pitched.

Sam's brows drew together, though he left the curtain alone. "I _was_ getting in with you. What's the problem?" Silence answered him. Sam waited a few beats and tried again. "Dean? What's going on?"

"Nothing!" he shot back too quickly. "I'm fine. I'm getting out though, so the shower's yours in a minute."

Sam ignored him. He knew something wasn't right. "Are you hurt?" Dean had told him earlier that he wasn't injured but Sam had a hard time believing that assessment most of the time. His brother had been trained early on to ignore his own pain and had downplayed his wounds so many times through the years that Sam was hard-pressed to believe him. He mentally cursed their father. It was because of John that Dean so often felt the need to hide how he was really feeling.

"I'm not hurt. Please just leave. I'll be out in a minute." Sam's eyebrows shot up. He earned a please and a dismissal all in one go causing an unpleasant feeling to start churning in his gut, a twisting, writhing feeling that told him something was very wrong, something that had his hair standing on end and all of his muscles tensing under his skin.

"Dean," he said insistently, knowing his tone would imply the tumble of emotions he was feeling.

"I'm fine Sammy. Just…go." The words were the same, but this time there was a hint of desperation behind them.

Sam gritted his teeth. "Fine," he grudgingly agreed. He wouldn't push it right now, but he would find out what was wrong. There was no question; if something was wrong with his brother, he needed to know. Dean was a stubborn man, hardheaded and cocky, but he was still Sam's brother and his partner in more ways than one, and Sam loved him.

He was about to lift Dean's clothes off the countertop and take them with him so he could confront Dean when he got out of the bathroom, when his brother's voice sounded behind him. "Leave the clothes, Sam." Sam spun around, startled. Dean's head was poking around the curtain, an angry glare in his eyes.

Sam glared right back. "Why can't you just tell me what's wrong?" he nearly shouted, features settling into their classic bitch-face.

"Nothing's wrong! Just get out Sam!" His gaze was livid and unrelenting.

Sam threw his hands into the air. "Sometimes I just don't understand you! Whatever. I'm leaving. Enjoy your shower," he bit out, nearly able to taste the acid dripping from his words. He turned and slammed out of the bathroom, the door rattling in its frame.

Only five minutes later, Dean stepped out of the steam-filled room wearing a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, his bare feet padding against the rough carpet. Sam heard him open the pizza box, lift a bottle off the table, and start heading his way, but he continued to stare at the television screen, barely blinking, and refusing to acknowledge his brother. He knew he was being stupid, petty like a snubbed teenaged girl, but he hated that Dean didn't trust him or feel like he could share with him. No matter how often he tried to get the older man to open up to him, Dean rarely allowed it to happen, and even when it did, he would snap his walls back up so fast afterwards that Sam often felt like he walked into them headfirst and left the conversations feeling pained and cold.

Strangely, Dean sat down close to him on the couch, seemingly unaware of the tension that raged between them only minutes before. "What're we watching?" he asked around a bite of saucy, cheesy dough. Sam didn't answer, just stared straight ahead, and even knowing Dean could tell he wasn't actually watching, he refused to break. He saw Dean swallow and duck his head in his peripheral vision, turning his face slightly away so Sam couldn't make out his expression.

Time passed in a crawl, like it had slowed down just to prolong the awkwardness of the evening, and Sam was becoming more and more irritated with each passing minute. He couldn't understand how Dean could be so contradicting; it was exhausting for Sam, and he was just the unlucky bystander caught in the middle of his brother's swirling emotions. What must it be like to be Dean and bounce between emotions and attitudes so quickly? Sam really didn't want to know and if he was being completely honest, he didn't think Dean liked it either.

"Sam?" Dean's questioning voice broke the thick silence, the word catching in his throat.

The taller man gave into the need to see his brother's expression. "Are you gonna tell me what's going on with you?"

"Sammy," Dean sighed, pulling his hand down across his mouth.

"Never mind," Sam responded caustically, lurching his large frame up off the stooped couch and going to his side of the bed, back turned to Dean as he pulled back the covers and slid beneath them still facing away. He blinked back the tears that rose unbidden behind his eyes and stared unseeingly at the wall, listening as his brother cleaned up from their dinner and eventually climbed into his own side, staying as far away from Sam as possible, and snapping off the light. Even in the dark, the tension was thick between them, and Sam forced his body to unwind, focusing on one muscle group at a time until he felt he had a chance of falling asleep. That hope was dashed when he heard the near silent whispered apology fall from Dean's lips, "M' sorry Sammy." Sam had to force his body to stay relaxed, even as his fingers curled into a fist by his pillow because he knew Dean thought he was asleep and it was these rare moments where Sam was sometimes able to find out more about his brother, the quiet moments when Dean thought he was asleep that he revealed more about himself than Sam would ever get when awake. He knew it wasn't fair to Dean, and not honest either, but if it helped him understand his brother, even a little bit more, Sam considered the slight deception worth it. Breathing as steadily and deeply as possible to feign sleep, Sam waited, listening as his brother adjusted himself on the mattress and his breathing finally evened out. Slowly, Sam turned over and settled in to watch Dean, smiling when Dean's nose scrunched up adorably – almost as if he were being tickled, and fought the temptation to reach out and wrap an arm around his partner's middle as he so often did at night. Closing his eyes against the pain of rejection and tension between them, Sam fell asleep.

* * *

As the light of early morning filtered through the dingy, off-white curtains in their latest motel room, Sam sighed and curled closer to the heat next to him. With a deep sigh, he stretched his arm out to curl his bed partner's body against his chest and nuzzled into his hair. As he blinked his eyes open, Sam pressed a kiss to Dean's head and slid his hand beneath the fabric of his shirt, relishing in the heat of his skin, stopping to finger a now old and puckered scar that decorated the skin alongside Dean's lower spine. It stretched about an inch to the right of the delicate bones and Sam never failed to brush his fingers over it when he could, saying a mental prayer of thanks each time he remembered just how close he'd come to once-again losing his brother. Even as that same prayer flashed through Sam's thoughts, the memory of the night before resurfaced and Sam retracted his hand and rolled away, clenching his jaw in pain.

Sam was well aware of how frequently the brothers fought, knew firsthand how easily they riled each other and how quickly they sometimes came to blows. The difference this time was that he really didn't have a clue what Dean was angry about. It seemed like he was hiding something but at the same time, Sam wasn't familiar with the way Dean was acting. The older man had hidden a great number of things from him over the years and though parts of Dean's reaction were similar, Sam felt something about this time was different – and he was desperate to know what it was. He hoped that with a little time and patience, Dean would feel comfortable enough to share with him and that it wasn't something Dean felt he had to protect Sam from because Sam knew those secrets were what often got them into the most trouble with each other.

Now sitting facing away from his brother on the edge of the bed, Sam dragged a hand through his hair and stood, trudging into the bathroom to take the shower he'd abandoned in anger the night before. At the threshold, he stopped and turned back towards his still-sleeping brother. Dean was curled on his left side, body covered up to his shoulders in a sheet. Just as he was turning away, Sam saw him reach out to Sam's side of the bed, fingers curling over nothing before he reached up and dragged Sam's abandoned but still sleep-warm pillow into his arm.

Sam wanted so badly to go back to that bed, to climb back in and drag his stubborn brother into his arms, to press warm wet kisses all over his brother's face, and to stroke his fingers up and down his sensitive sides. However much he wanted it, Sam knew it wasn't a good idea right now. They'd gone to bed angry at each other and to jump right back to sex would signal to Dean that all was forgotten – and it wasn't, Sam knew that, but it didn't make the situation any easier. With a sigh, Sam turned away and went to take his shower, hoping he'd get out to buy breakfast before his brother woke.

* * *

An hour later Sam walked back inside the motel room with coffee and food in hand. He locked the door behind him and was just moving to place everything down on the table when Dean walked out of the bathroom.

"Heya Sammy!" he greeted with a wide grin. Dean grabbed for his coffee and leaned into Sam, pressing up on his toes to land a kiss on Sam's lips. Sam was all kinds of confused, but he kissed his lover and wrapped his arms around him, pulling away after a long minute only to press their foreheads together. He couldn't help but smile at Dean, his brother's grin was infectious, but Sam also couldn't stop the twinge of worry that flared every time he thought of the night before.

"Hi," he breathed back, kissing Dean's lips one more time and then pulling back to start packing. "We've got a half hour before we have to be out of here. Bobby called while I was out, said we should check out a possible haunting in Clarksdale, Missouri. I told him we'd be on the road soon so we'd arrive by this evening." Sam threw his clothes from the day before into his duffle and zipped it up, moving around the bed to gather up the explosion of Dean's clothes around his brother's duffle bag and sliding his knife out from its customary place under Dean's pillow. He stuffed everything into the bag and handed the knife to Dean.

Within twenty minutes the two brothers had packed the car and were pulling out of the lot, Dean behind the wheel and already bobbing his head to the strains of AC/DC. Sam simply smiled and consulted his map, directing his brother in the direction they needed.

* * *

AN: This is the first of 6 chapters. I will have the second chapter up soon. Hope you enjoyed & let me know what you think so far!

also: I tried to keep my characterization in line with the show, but admittedly the boys seem to resemble their more emotional sides at the ends of the episodes. But everyone loves those parts anyway...so hopefully I did okay :)


	2. Chapter 2

Second chapter is here! A little sexiness this time around. And Sam's still working on figuring out what's wrong, but there's something else the boys have to deal with first. A little more angst in this chapter and then onto the main problem :) Enjoy!

* * *

By that evening, both Winchesters were tired, and having only stopped to pick up a few protein bars at a gas station along the way, they were both also feeling hungry and irritable. Dean pulled into a diner in the next town over from their destination.

Inside, their waitress warmly greeted them, an older woman who seemingly felt it was her duty to welcome the newcomers and speak entirely too enthusiastically for either of the Winchester's tastes. Dean flashed her a grin and Sam managed a small smile, but between the long hours in the car and the rising strain between them, neither of the boys felt much like smiling or even talking for that matter. They barely said two words to each other the entire time and though the waitress tried to encourage conversation, she was defeated by the pressing weight of lingering anger and confusion, much of which was coming from Sam.

With the happier start they'd had that morning, Sam thought maybe Dean had gotten over whatever had been bothering him last night, thought that maybe Dean would apologize or even share with him what had sparked the sudden anger. Instead, he'd continued to receive grins and jokes from his partner like the night before hadn't happened. As the hours went by and Dean kept avoiding any mention or reference to what happened, Sam just became angrier.

He was trying not to jump to conclusions or read too much into Dean's refusal to talk to him, but it was hard and with every new joke or smile or dismissal of last night, Sam grew increasingly agitated. He decided he'd let Dean have his way for a while, let him feel like he was getting away with it, but Sam would confront him about it later. He wasn't going to ignore it for long – he couldn't, because every time they let something stew between them, it almost always ended up in someone, usually one of them, getting hurt, and Sam was tired of it. Sam would let Dean direct their next activity and the conversation for the evening, but after he unwound a little, Sam would strike.

Unfortunately, things didn't go exactly to plan. Though Dean had directed them to a local bar just like Sam expected, he didn't factor in his own anger and frustration. He wanted so badly for Dean to talk to him that the continued refusal had Sam so worked up, he ended up drinking much more than he originally intended. Not even midnight, and Sam was feeling pretty buzzed. In fact, he wasn't entirely sure why he had two drinks in front of him at one time, or was that three. He squinted down at the bar, watching as the number of glasses changed each time he moved his head. _Fuck_. This wasn't a good sign. And Sam didn't even know where Dean had ended up. He hoped his partner hadn't gone off with anyone but the odds of that in their current situation weren't exactly good. A large frown turned Sam's lips and he picked at a raised piece of wood on the bar.

"What's with the pout Sammy?" Dean asked him, appearing out of seemingly nowhere, his tone entirely too happy and upbeat in comparison to Sam's current mood. Sam looked up and tried to focus on Dean, noticing that if he tilted his head the right way, there was only one of his brother. He felt much better when he could only see one of Dean, one was more than enough – he didn't need three.

Clenching his jaw, Sam darted his hand out to grab Dean's collar. He dragged the older man against him and stared him in the eyes, daring his brother, his partner to pull away. When he didn't, just stared back curiously, Sam yanked Dean's face down to meet his, sealing their lips together in a wet kiss. After a long moment, where the brothers got lost in each other and half the bar turned to watch, some in curiosity, others in disgust, Sam released Dean. "You don't taste like anyone else," he mumbled, wide eyes searching Dean's face.

Dean stared at him with flushed cheeks, his open expression transforming to horror and hurt. "Don't taste– fuck Sam! Of course I don't taste like anyone else! Fuck!" Dean slammed his left hand down on the bar, the hand still holding his drink trembling. Pressing his lips together, he continued more quietly. "I didn't come here to hook up with other people Sam. I hate –." He shook his head and dragged a hand down over his mouth, setting his drink down on the bar. "Come on Sam. Time to go."

Dean helped Sam up and out the door, propping him up to prevent him from toppling over. Sam moved with his brother, awkwardly falling into the passenger seat of the Impala. He stared at his fingers in his lap, still pretty drunk but now ashamed enough of himself to start sobering up. He hated how hurt Dean was by what he said, hated himself for assuming the worst of his partner. Even though they'd only been together as lovers for a little less than a month now, Dean had taken to their relationship willingly and happily, never once going back on his promise to be with Sam only.

As Dean took the wheel, Sam looked over. "I'm sorry Dean." The older man just shook his head and gave him a sad smile.

"'S not like I gave you any reason in my past to think I wouldn't."

Sam's brows drew together. "Yes you did Dean. You did. When we started this relationship, we promised each other that we were it, no one else. You've kept your promise Dean." His lips turned down in a frown, eyes sad. "I'm jus' sorry I doubted you."

"We should probably wait until you're a bit more sober to have this conversation." Dean said glancing over. "And don't give me that bitch face. You're such a lightweight; we need to get you some water and then into bed."

With each new word that passed Dean's lips, Sam could feel the alcohol leaving his system. He hated how defeated Dean sounded and he knew it was his fault. He also knew this was his only chance to fix this.

"Oh right! So we can forget this ever happened and never actually have any important conversations! You do this every time we have something important to discuss, Dean. When I don't want to talk about something you don't give me a choice, but when you don't want to talk, well guess what, we never get around to it because you do everything you possibly can to change the subject."

Sam saw how uncomfortable Dean looked, knuckles white around the steering wheel, but he refused to let this go. "Well this time is different. I'm not letting this go. I hurt you and I'm sorry and you deserve to hear that and to know it's true. I hate that I hurt you…" Sam finished with a whisper. The Impala was now parked in front of a motel, but Dean's hands had yet to release the wheel, his eyes staring straight ahead. "Dean…" Sam tried again softly. He saw Dean's jaw tighten and his eyes close. "Please look at me."

Dean just flexed his fingers on the wheel and shook his head as if to shake off everything he was feeling. He got out of the car without even glancing at Sam and went to pay for a motel room. Sam sighed and waited for Dean to come back, pressing his lips together when all he got was the slam of the car door and the roar of the engine when Dean climbed back in and moved the car to their room number. Parked in front of their room, Dean went to gather their bags from the trunk and unlocked the room, again without any acknowledgment towards Sam. Feeling defeated and ashamed of himself, Sam got out and followed his brother inside.

Shutting the door behind him, Sam watched Dean fling the duffel bags and his jacket towards the nearest bed and felt his heart clench in pain, tears gathering once more behind his eyes. Two beds meant they were in much deeper trouble than Sam had even thought. For most of the last month they'd been together they had gotten one king bed everywhere they went, content to be near each other and enjoy the closeness no matter the implications to the outside world. By asking for two beds now, Dean had drawn a line in the sand, built a fortress between them, and Sam felt himself falling apart. How did everything go to hell so fucking quickly. It shouldn't have been possible with how freaking happy they'd been, but now everything was wrong and fucked up and Sam had no idea what to do.

He watched from the door as Dean walked the room and then grabbed the salt to line the window and the door. Sam stepped out of the way and dropped a hand to Dean's arm when he straightened up. Dean glanced at the hand on his arm and then pulled away, dropping the salt bag and falling onto the bed closest to the door. He settled into the pillows and stared at the ceiling, leaving Sam to fall apart where he stood.

Forcing himself to get it together, Sam sucked in a deep breath and went to the sink to drink some water. He needed to sober up a little more before anything else could happen tonight and knowing that Dean wouldn't be receptive to actual conversation, Sam knew he'd need to spearhead any form of talking that would take place.

Not ten minutes passed and Sam was feeling jumpy, his fingers drumming on his right knee and his skin itching, feeling too small and tight for his body. Dean was still staring blankly at the ceiling but Sam could see how rigidly Dean was holding his body, arms and legs tightly bound though they appeared at first glance to be perfectly relaxed, breathing forcibly even. Sam took a deep breath and closed his eyes, measuring how he felt in terms of sobriety – his vision had improved significantly since leaving the bar, his hands were steady, he'd even been able to walk from the bathroom to his bed without any missteps or stumbling. Emotionally, Sam was feeling much less stable, but if he had a hope of fixing things with Dean, he needed to do it now.

Sam situated himself on his separate bed so he was sitting across from Dean's torso and saw Dean visibly tense, wishing more than anything that he could take back this night. Even more than last night where tempers were high, what he'd said to Dean at the bar had the potential to destroy everything between them and he would do anything to do it all over.

"Dean," Sam started, inhaling to steady his nerves, "You don't have to say anything right now, but I really need you to listen."

He paused, waiting for any indication in Dean's expression or his body that would tell him his partner was listening. All he got was the clenching of Dean's jaw, but it was enough; it had to be.

"I'm sorry about tonight. What I said…you didn't deserve that. Since we started this whole thing between us you've done nothing but prove how serious you are about it and…god, I never meant to hurt you – not like that. I've been so _angry_ with you since last night, angry that you refuse to talk to me, angry that I never feel like your equal, and I let my insecurities about that affect what I said tonight. I never once doubted you before now, and even tonight I knew I was wrong to even think that, I hope you know that." He took a couple deep breaths, and then forced himself to continue. "I won't blame you if you decide to end things…I love you too much to want that for us, but if that's what you need, if you feel that's best…I'll-I…"

Sam shook his head and pressed his lips together, taking another deep breath as he tried to shake off the aching sadness settling over him. Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he looked up to find Dean sitting up on his bed, staring back at Sam with pain in his eyes. Sam wanted to hurt himself for putting it there.

"Sammy," Dean whispered. His voice sounded so pained, Sam felt tears gathering again and blinked them back, refusing to let them fall right then. He didn't deserve to cry or even be upset – this was his fault.

"Fuck, Sam. How do we always end up in these situations?" Dean dragged a hand down his face and chuckled, but it wasn't a happy sound. In fact, Sam was positive that was the most depressing sound his brother could have made right then because it was anything but happy and did nothing but make Sam want to pull his brother, his lover into his arms and never let go, made Sam want to wrap him up so tightly that nothing would ever get passed him to hurt Dean again. Instead, he remained in his spot on the bed and felt the ache of not having Dean in his arms settle into his skin. Without looking up from his lap, Dean continued speaking. "I don't – I don't want that Sam. No matter what happened between us, I would never be able to tell you I want that; it would never be true."

Sam smiled a watery smile at his lover and fidgeted in his seat, looking back down at his lap. He wanted so badly to get up and go to his brother, but knew it was probably better to give Dean his space. "C'mere Sam," he heard, and looking up, Sam saw one of the best sights he'd ever seen – Dean holding out a hand to him in invitation. Sam leapt up and vaulted himself across the little space between their beds, the insurmountable chasm disappearing with the offer of Dean's hand. He crawled onto the mattress and tucked himself against Dean's side, pressing soft kisses against any skin he could reach and whispering apologies with each breath.

Dean stroked a steady hand down Sam's back and pulled the younger man's body tight against his side.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," Sam whispered again as he kissed Dean's cheek and made his way to his lover's plush lips. When their mouths first met, Dean tensed against him, but within mere seconds, the older man's body relaxed into Sam's and pulled him closer, crushing their chests so close Sam felt the air press out of his lungs.

Pulling back to take a breath, Sam searched Dean's face, hoping to find forgiveness there. What he found was a deep love and growing lust, black spreading to leave only a thin circle of green in Dean's eyes. His brother's hands latched onto his hips and rocked them together, a moan slipping from his throat and igniting a fire deep in Sam's belly, the fire only growing as Dean rolled them over so Sam's back was flat on the mattress. He wanted nothing more in that moment than for them to just be together.

They stared at each other for a long moment and then Sam hesitantly lifted his head to press their lips together. Dean let the gentle caress continue for only a short time before he pushed harder, grinding his body down into Sam's and letting the friction of their lips ignite sparks between them. Sam dragged his hands up Dean's sides and cupped his brother's neck, digging fingertips into the tiny curls of hair at his nape and pulling him closer, closer, so close nothing could interfere in this perfect moment.

Dean dropped a hand to Sam's waist, lifting his shirt up to his chest and kissing a line down his throat. Sam panted and tilted his head to give his brother more space, a low moan falling from his lips when Dean's thumb swept over his nipple in slow rhythmic motions. "God, Dean," he nearly growled, sliding his hand to frame Dean's cheek and pulling him back up to his lips. As their mouths settled back into a familiar glide, Sam sat up, nudging Dean's thighs to straddle his legs. Their hips rolled and Dean whimpered, fingers digging roughly into Sam's hips and then releasing the skin in favor of Sam's shirt, finally finishing his earlier task and dragging it off over Sam's head. Sam watched his brother as the older man rocked against him, feeling himself grow impossibly harder at the flush creeping down from freckled cheeks to muscled chest. Dean threw his head back and Sam leaned in, licking at the base of his throat and relishing in the salty sweet taste of his partner.

Hands gripped Sam's shoulders tightly as they rocked and then Dean dropped his forehead to Sam's shoulder and reached down for the button on his pants. Sam kissed the side of Dean's head and once the drag of his zipper stopped, he fingered the bottom of Dean's shirt and lifted the well-worn cloth up to his brother's chest. His fingers had barely grazed the lowest rib when Dean's hand overlapped Sam's and stopped the motion, turning his face into Sam's neck and sucking hard, twining their fingers together.

Confusion filled Sam and even as he relished the rare show of affection, the twine of their fingers, Sam used his other hand to return to Dean's shirt. His partner pulled back smiling, his torso leaning sideways so he could reach the side table, shirt automatically falling as Sam's hand was pushed aside. Grabbing a small bottle of lotion left there, he popped the cap and smirked at Sam, the impish gleam in his eyes distracting Sam from noticing right away that his brother's hand was reaching for the lamp. Just before he was able to twist the switch, Sam grabbed Dean's wrist, murmuring, "Don't. Wanna see you."

Sam could see a strange expression flit over Dean's face, something he couldn't identify. His older brother was often a mystery, nothing new there, but this time Sam felt like he was missing something huge, something important, and there was nothing he could do unless Dean talked to him. Opening his mouth to ask, Sam was cut off by plush lips slanting over his once more and between one blink and the next, the lights flicked off. Sam gladly moved his lips against his brother's but irritation started building in the back of his mind. He'd just told his brother not to turn the light off, and as always Dean did whatever he wanted. Sam just couldn't figure out what the issue with the light was, if it was Dean pulling an older brother power trip, or something else.

"Dean," he whispered, lips still brushing softly. "What'd you do that for?"

Dean hummed and licked at Sam's lips, hands returning to Sam's waist and fumbling with the bunched fabric of his jeans and boxers. Brows drawing together, Sam dropped his hands on top of Dean's, stilling his movements. One more gentle press of lips and Sam backed off. "Why'd you turn off the light Dean?" He could feel the rigid line of his brother's body, the tension radiating from every pore. "Dean," he murmured, nudging his brother's cheek with his nose and then dragging the tip of his tongue up the scruffy jaw-line. Dean's only response was a tilt of his head and a subtle lean into the caress – his brother, the closet cuddler. "De-ean," Sam sing-songed in a whisper, "why'd you–"

Sam was cut off by the abrupt removal of his brother's weight from his lap and the chill left in its place. In the sliver of light peeking through the curtains Sam was able to make out the scowl painting Dean's face and the hard line of his jaw from where Dean stood across the small space between the beds. Dean had apparently reached a limit Sam hadn't even been aware he was approaching. Not good. A hurt Dean was painful, an angry Dean was scary; but a combination of the two was downright devastating.

Pressing his lips together and licking them nervously, Sam scooted to the edge of the mattress, hand extended towards his brother. With a soft sigh, he settled for simply brushing the back of his hand along Dean's forearm, knowing anything more would send his brother running out the door. "C'mere." Dean turned his face towards the opposite wall. "Dunno why you won't just talk to me," Sam sighed under his breath. "Dean, please?" he tried again, this time snagging his fingers on Dean's wrist and employing his signature puppy-dog eyes, waiting for Dean to turn towards him.

He felt the slight tremble beneath his fingertips and rubbed his other hand over his thigh to rid his palm of its clamminess. He watched the struggle in Dean's eyes, fighting every instinct in him that told him to pull Dean close and tuck him tight against his chest. That's the last thing his brother would want right now.

Forcing himself to wait patiently, or as patiently as he could manage under the circumstances, heart pounding in his ears, Sam watched his brother finally settle, the sharp glaze of his eyes retreating and returning his cocky brother to him. "Just can't get enough of me huh Sammy?" The words felt forced, not making quite the effortless glide off Dean's tongue as Sam was accustomed to hearing.

Sam felt confused, worried, lost beyond belief, but then again, his brother rarely made leaps that made sense to Sam. "You bet," he growled, doing his best to ignore the waver underlying Dean's words and his own worries. He jerked Dean's body back towards the bed and between his knees, hands latching onto his lover's waist and dragging him down on top as Sam fell back. "So fucking hot. Want you." Sam groaned, rocking his hips up into Dean's.

Dean's panted breaths puffed hot against Sam's neck. "God, Sam. Yes." The words left goose bumps on Sam's skin and sent tingles up his spine. Fuck he loved to hear Dean's voice filled with pleasure. Sam shifted their bodies up the bed, rolling their cocks together through fabric and licking a stripe up Dean's throat. He'd ignore the light issue for now, let Dean have his way, but he'd figure out how to talk to Dean about it later.

Moments later, clothes were disappearing off their bodies and being flung off to land in haphazard piles around the room. Sam laughed as Dean's fingers dug into his sides, sealing their lips together again in a heated kiss. Fingers creeping to Dean's back, inching up under his shirt, Sam was pleased to find that this time Dean let him lift the material and drag it over his head. It also told Sam that his brother wasn't injured; he just had something else to hide. They fumbled through the familiar drag and pull of cloth over thighs and bumped knuckles over hardened flesh, lips brushing, biting, never enough, but always nearly too much at the same time.

Sam kicked their jeans the rest of the way off and rocked against Dean, rolling to situate himself slightly over his brother, nibbling the fucking sexy-as-hell bottom lip as he grasped their cocks together in his fist. Dean seemed to fight the roll of Sam on top at first, but then his head fell back to the pillow, mouth dropping open in a soundless moan. His hands gripped the sheets, twisting the motel-rough fabric between his fingers as Sam's fist finally started jerking them, a strangled groan forced from his throat at the pull and glide on swollen red flesh and the sweeps of Sam's thumb encouraging pearlescent drops to spill from his tip. Sam grinned against Dean's lips, sucking them between his teeth and nipping at the sensitive flesh.

His brother's hips jolted roughly, angles of his hipbones cutting into Sam. The heat of Dean's body was intoxicating, the tension stretching the older man's body taut, and Sam squeezed just a fraction tighter, pressed his thumb just a bit harder. He shuddered at the moan that erupted from his brother, a sound Dean would never let out of his mouth under normal circumstances. An answering groan tumbled from Sam's lips. Quickening his pace just enough and squeezing at just the right moment, he felt Dean's body go rigid against him, back arching. Dean's hands flew to Sam's shoulders and gripped tight, his mouth dropping open to gasp out Sam's name, cock twitching as it spurted out his release in sticky white streams over Sam's fingers and his own belly.

Sam's fist never let up, continuing the rhythmic pull on their cocks. He loved watching Dean come, the pure bliss that overtook his features, feeling the tremors that jerked through Dean's body in the aftermath. As Dean started to relax, arms falling pliant to the bed, Sam dropped his mouth to Dean's pulse point and bit down. The resultant moan that shot out of Dean's kiss-swollen lips sent Sam over the edge.

Moments later, body going lax over Dean's, Sam reached to the nightstand for some tissues to clean them up. He wiped his fingers and then gently swept the tissues over his brother's abdomen. Dean was already fighting sleep, eyes heavy, but obviously struggling to stay open and Sam smiled. "I _am_ sorry Dean," he whispered. "Love you." After tossing the soiled tissues to the floor, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Dean's lips. There was barely any movement, only a soft brush of lips and a quiet hum from Dean. Sam dropped to the side and settled with his back to the mattress, curling an arm under Dean's neck and shoulders and rolling him to lie against his chest.

Sam listened to Dean's breaths even out and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, closing his eyes. Even as his body relaxed, his mind started whirring. He ghosted his fingers in a light pattern up and down Dean's sweaty back, soothing him into a deeper sleep and settling his own need to comfort his brother. Following the earlier outburst, Sam was feeling rather unsettled and needed to offer some kind of support, even if it had to be while his brother slept.

Really though, Sam had to figure out what was bothering Dean so much lately and how to fix it, because with tempers flaring the way they had been, their relationship wouldn't survive much more. Sam breathed deeply, thinking back. In the past two days alone, Dean hadn't allowed Sam to join him in the shower and then turned the lights out during sex when Sam had told him not to. They weren't exactly alarm raising all by themselves, but together in so short a time, Sam was definitely worried.

Now that he thought about it though, Dean and he hadn't yet showered together since their romantic relationship had begun, and whether that was because the opportunity had never presented itself or because of something else, Sam wasn't sure. And as for the light, he'd never put much thought into it, but now that he was trying to draw an image of his naked brother from the last month, the only memories he could conjure were either cast in shadows or from long before they'd started their relationship, maybe not even in the last year or two. In the month they'd been together, Sam couldn't think of one time where he'd seen his brother unclothed with the light on. He knew they'd had sex a lot, and there were definitely times where the light was on, but strangely enough, Sam was realizing that every one of those times, he'd been on his hands and knees or had his face to a wall with Dean pressed up behind him.

How had he not noticed this before now? Sam dragged a hand down his face, the arm around Dean tightening its hold.

Sam knew his brother better than anyone and yet this was so hard for him to process, he felt tears starting behind his eyes. Why would Dean feel the need to hide from him? And that was just it – Why? Why? Why? The question seemed to pulse in Sam's head; he couldn't figure it out.

Anxious and with worry building, Sam stared at the ceiling. He had a feeling he wouldn't get much sleep that night. What Sam hadn't taken into account however was Dean's rhythmic breathing and the patter of his heartbeat, the one harmonic lullaby that never failed to put him out. From the time they were children sharing a bed across from their father in motel rooms, to now, situated on top of each other as lovers, those two sounds created the safest and most peaceful environment Sam could ever imagine. He fell asleep with his fingers curled into the hair at Dean's nape.

* * *

So the boys had to deal with a relationship issue before they could really move on. This part actually surprised me when I was writing, but it seemed to work, so here it is. Hope you liked it :)

side note: this story is cross-posted on Sinful Desire and Archive of Our Own under the same pen-name.


	3. Chapter 3

This one's a bit shorter, but Sam starts to get a clue and makes a plan.

* * *

Feeling entirely too warm and with haunting dreams echoing in his head, Sam's eyes fluttered open, and heart still pumping hard, his arm stretching out to find Dean beside him. Instead he encountered cooling sheets and the sound of the shower running behind the closed bathroom door. Sam sat up and dragged his hands down his face, the sheet pooling at his waist. Fuck. Sam dropped his head into his palms and let the memories from his dreams come.

 _"_ _But how, Dad?" Sam heard whispered through the dark. "How am I supposed to-"_

 _"_ _Be confident Dean!" Their father's gruff voice was much louder in the still night. Sam tried to keep his breathing even so neither of them would notice he was awake. He stayed still under the covers and slit his eyes open. 10 year old Dean was seated on their father's bed, John standing in front of him, intimidating with his hands on his hips and scowl on his face._

 _"_ _I don't know how to do that! Dad, I hate lying-"_

 _"_ _You better get used to it, Dean. I don't have the patience for this. If you don't learn how to come across to people, how to tell people what they want to hear, you'll put us all at risk, especially Sammy, and I know you don't want that."_

 _Dean dropped his head. "No sir."_

 _Sam was in the bathroom and just about to pull the door open when he heard Dean's tentative voice break the silence in the other room. "Hey Dad? I need your help."_

 _John cleared his throat. "What's going on Dean?"_

 _"_ _I well, I um…" Sam knew his brother's fingers would be twisting together, a nervous gesture from childhood he hadn't yet stopped._

 _"_ _Spit it out Dean."_

 _"_ _I – there's this girl at school–"_

 _"_ _Oh yeah? Well good for you son!" Their father chuckled and Sam could imagine him ruffling his fingers through Dean's hair._

 _"_ _I guess. But Dad, I don't – she wants…she wants me to kiss her. I heard one of her friends talkin' and now I don't know what to do! Dad, I've never…" he trailed off again._

 _"_ _Never what?" Sam heard Dean mumble something but couldn't make out the words. "Never kissed anyone? Dean, so what? You're 14. I'm sure you can figure it out."_

 _"_ _But-but I," Dean stammered. "Dad, please!"_

 _"_ _Dean, what have I been telling you for years now? Be confident! And if you can't, fake it! If she can't tell you're nervous, it won't matter how you're actually feeling."_

 _"_ _But I–" Sam could hear the tears of frustration in Dean's voice, the tears he was desperately trying to stop from falling. His brother rarely cried, and even now, he was trying to be strong and hold them back._

 _"_ _Dean Winchester!"_

 _"_ _Yes sir," Dean hiccupped._

 _"_ _You stand up tall boy and you stop those tears. We hunters can't afford that. Now you buck up and you pretend you've got the confidence you need until you really feel it and you'll do just fine. Do you understand me?"_

 _"_ _Yessir."_

 _A giggle sounded from behind the door of their bedroom. Their dad had rented a small place temporarily and Dean and he had to share a room. Problem was, Sam needed a textbook he'd left in there earlier to do his homework, but Dean clearly had someone with him. At 17, his brother was really into the whole dating scene and as awkward as Sam felt about it, he really needed that book._

 _Thinking maybe he could slip in and out unnoticed, Sam cracked the door. What he found was his brother and the girl sprawled across Dean's bed, the fingers of one hand in the girl's hair and his other hand pushing her shirt up. As the girl's tank top flew onto the floor and Dean's hands ventured towards her breasts, she moved to grab the hem of his shirt._

 _Sam watched as his brother tensed and pulled back. "No-no sweetheart," he crooned, "this is all about you." While the girl's face showed a bit of confusion, she accepted the statement when Dean's thumbs swept over her nipples under her bra. Dean's body immediately relaxed._

 _Coming back to the motel room after a quick run to the drugstore down the street, Sam found the typical sight of Dean and one of his bar-hussies pressed against each other on the bed. Before Sam could react or back out, the girl groaned out a "fuck me" and Dean rose to his knees and flipped the girl over. Even as he knew he had to leave, Sam couldn't make himself stop watching._

 _Dean helped the girl undress, working the fingers of one hand inside her, and unbuttoned his jeans with the other. Sam stared in fascinated horror as Dean dropped his pants barely below his hips, rolled on a condom, and surged forward._

Sam groaned at the grainy images flashing through his thoughts like short videos. While separately each of the memories had faded, put all together in his head like that, Sam knew what he was dealing with. Each of those memories were the reason Dean was acting this way, and at least Sam could reassure himself with the fact that Dean's discomfort didn't stem from the relationship they had started.

Standing up, Sam donned his jeans and a fresh t-shirt from his duffle, pulling out the computer to start researching the haunting Bobby had sent them to look into. When this case was finished, Sam would deal with Dean.

Dean strolled out of the bathroom ten minutes later fully dressed, rubbing a towel over his still-wet hair. "What've we got, Sammy?"

Sparing a brief glance to his brother, Sam stared back at the screen and then his notes. "It's looking like a typical vengeful spirit. People have been reporting strange noises and moving objects at a department store in town for the last few months. In the last three weeks, two people have turned up dead on site and one is in the hospital with severe injuries. All three had the same kinds of wounds – blunt force to the head and a couple broken bones." Sam finally looked up and swallowed hard. Dean was bent over picking something up off the floor, his jeans stretched tight and outlining the rounded swell of his ass perfectly.

Sam cleared his throat, watching as Dean stood back up and turned around, brows furrowed in thought. "So I guess we're headed to the hospital then. See if we can get any information from the last victim?"

"That would be ideal, but I don't think he's awake Dean. From what I gathered, he's in the ICU in a coma. At this point, heading to the department store is going to be a better bet."

Dean nodded and thirty minutes later, they were talking to the manager.

"It's a real shame. I never expected anything like this to happen around here, at least not again." The man said, shaking his head.

Sam watched Dean's eyebrows lift high on his forehead. "Again? Something like this has happened before?"

Nodding, the man answered. "Yeah. It was, oh about a year ago I'd say. Young guy, I think he was new in town – he was found dead out back behind the store. Same kind of injuries, but nobody ever figured out who did it…or why."

Sam shared a glance with Dean, "Do you remember the young man's name by any chance?"

He started to shake his head, then seemed to think. "Now you mention it, I think – hmmm, I think his name might'a been Jake, no J-Jerry? That sounds right. Jerry something."

"Well thank-you for your time sir. You've been a big help." Dean flashed his winning smile and they turned away. Sam fought back the arousal threatening to take over his body. Now was really not the time. Tomorrow. They'd take care of this spirit tonight, and then tomorrow he'd plan how to attack the problem with Dean.

Trudging through the cemetery with shovels hanging from tired hands, Sam and Dean reached the Impala. They loaded their gear into the trunk and dropped into the front, letting out matching bone-weary sighs. "I could sleep for a week," Dean groaned, turning the key in the ignition.

Sam grinned, typical remark after this kind of night. "I call first shower," he said, knowing it would rankle his brother.

Dean shot him a nasty look from the driver's seat. "Fine, bitch."

Sam's grin just widened, watching the few short miles to the motel roll by out the window.

Inside, they took turns showering, Sam waiting for his brother to climb into one of the beds before lifting the covers and getting in after him. As Dean laid flat on his back, Sam pushed himself closer, moving Dean's arm so he could lie against his brother's side. With a small smile, Dean wrapped his left arm under Sam's body and curled him against his chest, letting out a deep sigh when Sam's head landed on top of his heart.

A few minutes later and Sam listened to Dean's breaths even out, enjoying the thump of his brother's heart under his ear. He listened to make sure Dean was actually sleeping and then slipped the fingers of his left hand under the hem of his lover's shirt. Sam stroked the silky skin until he fell asleep.

It had been two full days, three nights since the "shower incident", as Sam was calling it. Three nights since Dean rejected him and tension started raging between them. Sam could barely stand it, knew Dean was pretending none of it happened. That wouldn't be the case for long though.

After the tiring night in the cemetery and no new cases on their radar, Sam and Dean had agreed to stay in town for another few days and Sam planned to take full advantage of the few free days. Sam had left Dean in the room after having lunch at the local diner. Who knew what his brother would do while he was gone, but Sam was on a mission.

He borrowed the car and traveled to the next town, making sure Dean couldn't follow him or find out what he was doing, and parked in front of a craft store. Not a place they typically went to, a place Dean would laugh at for sure, but Sam knew it would have what he needed. Ten minutes after walking inside, Sam returned to the car, one small bag dangling from his fingers, a grin, almost a smirk, on his lips. Dean wouldn't know what hit him.

One stop at a home-improvement warehouse and Sam would be good to go. This trip took a little longer, the item he needed just a tad more specific. If it was wrong, his plan wouldn't work and Sam ran the risk of alienating his brother further. Truthfully, the entire plan could fall apart and send his brother running, but Sam refused to think like that. He was determined to help Dean, to make this better between them.

This would work. Sam knew it would. Anything less was unacceptable.

* * *

Of course a job had to make an appearance, but the boys will get there, I promise! More coming soon!


	4. Chapter 4

Things finally start to heat up! Minor warning for a dub-con scenario – it's not technically sexual, but definitely not entirely innocent either. Just wanted to put the warning out there.

* * *

Sam found Dean with his head bent over the table when he came back to the room. "More porn, Dean?" he joked, kicking the door shut behind him and dropping his purchase onto the floor. He slid the bag under the bed with his toes.

Dean stilled and Sam heard the cover of his laptop click shut, looking up to see a smirk twist his brother's lips. Sam shook his head. "You wanna get dinner?"

"Sure thing Sammy. The diner 'round the corner sound good?" Dean stood and grabbed his jacket.

Looking down, Sam offered a shrug, making sure to keep his eyes away from Dean's. "I was actually thinking take-out. 'M kinda tired. Think you could go pick it up?"

Dean's eyes narrowed but he nodded, snagging the keys out of the air from Sam's toss. "I'll be sure to get you a nice greasy burger and chili fries."

"You do and you can sleep on the floor tonight," Sam promised. Dean flashed him the finger as the door swung shut. Waiting on the rumble of the Impala, Sam bounced his right foot on the floor. The thirty seconds it took for Dean to pull away were entirely too long. As the guttural roar of Dean's second love faded, Sam raced to the window, flipping the curtain aside just to be sure his brother was gone. When the car pulled around the corner, Sam opened the door and went around the side of the building. After he'd parked before, he'd stashed his bigger purchase along the side of the motel, knowing Dean couldn't see it before Sam had it in place.

Now, Sam lugged it inside and slid it under the bed, making sure Dean wouldn't be able to see it when he came through the door or sat at the table. Satisfied that his secret would remain that way until he was ready, Sam laid on the bed, stretching out to wait.

Later that evening, Sam waited impatiently for his brother to decide it was time to go to bed. He didn't want to look too eager and spoil his surprise, so he waited, and waited, and sighed when the night in front of the T.V. seemed to drag endlessly on.

He watched Dean from the side, counting the minutes under his breath and enjoying the way the glow of the screen bounced off of Dean's features, casting shadows on his cheeks. Dean's tongue swept over his bottom lip and then finally, Sam rolled to his feet, unable to wait any longer. He had to get this night moving along. "Gonna grab a shower Dean," he mumbled, dragging a hand through his hair and heading to the bathroom.

"M'kay," Sam heard from behind him. He shook his head and closed the bathroom door, turning the water on and climbing inside. The warm water helped steady his nerves and relax his muscles, rinsing away the grime of the day and helping Sam gather his thoughts. He'd need every bit of control he possessed to get through this night.

When Sam reentered the main room dragging a towel over his hair, he heard the sound of the T.V. shut off and the shuffle of his brother's feet across the carpet. "I'm gonna get in now. Be out in a few."

Dean barely looked up as he walked by and Sam encircled his wrist between his middle finger and thumb, gently dragging his lover's body into his. "Mmm, be quick," Sam smiled, pressing a kiss to Dean's lips. A smile lit Dean's face and he nodded, pulling back reluctantly and going into the bathroom.

As soon as Sam heard the water turn on, he dropped his towel to the floor and dropped to his knees by the bed, pulling out the bag from the craft store. Quickly, so Dean wouldn't come back before he was finished setting up, Sam pulled his purchases from the bag, fingering the silky swaths of black cloth. Sam pushed to his feet and tied the pieces of material in place, adjusting the lights in the room so they weren't too dark or too bright, and pulled the comforter and sheets back to the end of the bed before getting up on the mattress. Now all he had to do was wait.

The water shut off. Sam's breath hitched. A few minutes later, the door opened and Dean walked out in sweats and a t-shirt.

Sam smiled in invitation, holding out his hand, trying to breath as evenly as possible to keep Dean clueless for as long as he could. Dean grinned back and mounted the bed, sweeping his hand up Sam's side and lowering himself over Sam's body. A shiver slid up his spine and Sam cupped Dean's jaw, pulling him down into a kiss. Heat bubbled in his belly, and nothing could stop the groan that spilled from his mouth as his lover's lips claimed his. Dean's smaller frame pressed down on him and Sam had to force himself to keep his thoughts at least semi-focused. He needed to stay in control tonight or everything would fall apart.

Pulling back for a breath, Sam stared up at his brother. "Want you," he murmured, pressing his hand into Dean's lower back. He was almost sure his palm burned a hole through the thin fabric of the t-shirt. Leaning up to continue the kiss, Sam slid his hands into position, flicked his tongue to keep Dean distracted…and rolled.

He'd managed to catch his brother off guard and pressing his full weight down on Dean's body, he captured Dean's right arm and drew it over his head. Movements quick and sure, Sam soon had his brother's wrist trapped within the strip of black silk he'd purchased and tied to the bedframe. Not giving Dean much time to react, he grabbed the other arm and tied that one too.

Dean's body bucked beneath him, jerking as he tried to pull his arms down. When Sam chanced a glance at Dean's face he saw confusion gracing his brother's features. It wasn't until Sam started cutting away Dean's clothes with a slyly stashed knife that Dean's expression morphed into one of pure anger. Sam could feel it radiating from his brother's eyes and his now trembling muscles and winced. He knew Dean wouldn't be happy with him, but he hadn't prepared himself for the guilt. Throat feeling tight, Sam stared down at Dean.

"What the fuck are you doing, Sam?" Dean snapped, arms still straining against the fabric. "Let me go!"

Using two fingers, Sam swept over Dean's chin and up his cheek, meeting his eyes and forcing himself to remain calm. "I can't do that," he whispered.

The telltale tic started in Dean's jaw. "And why is that?" The words were clipped, short. Sam knew Dean would snap soon.

"I want you to trust me, Dean."

Dean laughed, the sound nothing like his usual husk, but higher pitched and sarcastic. "Trust you?"

Sam just nodded, tracing Dean's jawline again and cupping his cheek. "Yeah Dean. I know you trust me on the job. We wouldn't work together like we do if you didn't. It's not that kind of trust I'm talking about." He sighed. No matter what he said, Dean would fight him on this. He knew that – didn't change how much he hated hurting his brother, feeling like he was betraying him. "Do you know how beautiful you are?"

Dean froze. "What? Is this some kind of kinky trip for you? Fuck, Sam! I told you to let me go!" Sam could see the panic starting in his brother's eyes. The muscles in his arms bulged, pulling frantically against the restraints.

"Not a kink, Dean. You are so beautiful, but I don't think you see it. No matter how much other people tell you, how much _I_ tell you, you still don't see it do you?"

Short breaths puffed against Sam's face. "What are you talking about? Sam, let me go!" Dean's legs finally came to life under Sam and fought to dislodge Sam's larger frame. "I don't want this Sam! Let me go!"

Sam felt tears gather in his eyes. "I don't want to hurt you Dean. I'm _not_ going to hurt you, but I can't let you go." He swallowed. "I know you're angry with me; I get that. I do. But I want you to see what I do when I look at you. This isn't about sex – not at all; it's just about you really seeing yourself. You hide from me, from everyone, and you pretend that everything's okay, but I know it's not. It took me until a couple nights ago to really see that." Sam had to stop for a moment, take a breath to keep himself together. He saw the panic still raging in Dean's eyes, eyes darting, trying to find a way out. "Dean, baby…" Dean's eyes zeroed in on Sam's. "You always trust me to have your back. You trust me with your life. So why can't you trust me with your body?"

Dean reared back against the mattress and pillows like he'd been slapped. His eyes were wide in his face making him look like a child. Sam just wanted to hold him.

A moment later, Dean's face crumpled, eyes filling with tears. "Let me go, Sammy. Just let me go! Please…" The words came out in a pained moan.

Keeping his leg tight over both of Dean's, Sam gently slid his body down to the mattress on Dean's right side. He pressed a kiss to his brother's cheek, closing his eyes against the desperation he saw in Dean's.

"I love you. As angry as you are with me right now, I want you to remember that."

Sam traced a finger over Dean's lips, pressing gently against the pink flesh and whispering softly. "I love your lips Dean – they're stunning. I know sometimes you hate them, think they're like girl's lips, but that couldn't be more wrong. You know what I see?" Sam husked. "I see lips that are sexy as all fucking get out. When you smile at me, it turns me on. When you bite them, I want to grab you and lick the sting away. When you lick them, I want them on me – it doesn't even matter how. And once they're on me, there's no comparison to anyone else on the planet. You can give someone more pleasure with your lips alone then most people could give with their whole bodies." He paused briefly, continuing to trace the outline of Dean's lips.

"You know what else? I see the way you use them to brighten someone else's day with a smile, the cocky smirk you use as a challenge. I see the skill they have at making jokes, at forming insults and the Latin we use on the job, and even more than that, I see the ability they have to tell me I'm being a bitch one minute and then to tell me how much you love me in the next."

As Sam spoke, he watched the confusion flicker over Dean's face, the way he tried to turn away from the words, to distance himself from Sam. Sam wasn't having that and so he held Dean's cheek and pulled him around to face him, keeping him there until he finished speaking. When the words finally stopped, Sam leaned in and pressed one lingering kiss to Dean's lips. Dean remained still, but Sam detected a slight tremor of movement as he pulled away.

Holding Dean's gaze, Sam lifted his finger again, watching his brother's eyes close as this time he traced over Dean's eyelids one at a time.

"You're eyes are beautiful too, Dean. They're the most striking shade of green I've ever seen, bright like liquid jade on some days. And so expressive you could tell me anything you're thinking without ever opening your mouth."

During Sam's speech, Dean had gone completely still. Though his entire body was still full of tension, almost vibrating with it, he'd stopped pulling against the ties. He kept a wary eye on Sam, hands curled into fists above his head. Sam once more leaned down, and this time dropped soft kisses over each of Dean's eyes, relishing the flutter of his lashes with each press of lips.

Barely pulling back, Sam grazed his lips down the side of Dean's face, lifting one hand to drag a finger over his cheekbones. "You should know I love your cheeks just as much as the rest of you. It sounds silly, but they can be just as expressive as your eyes. I can tell so much about you just from what color they are." Sam's lips brushed Dean's skin, the feather-light sweeps making Dean shiver.

"When they're pale I can tell you're hurting, even if you won't tell me yourself, and all I want to do is hold you. And when they're a deep red, it tells me that you're embarrassed about something." Pausing, Sam relished the red splotches appearing on his brother's freckled face. "Other times, when they turn more pink, I can tell how turned on you are." Sam leaned in closer, lips brushing Dean's cheeks as he spoke. "But the color I like best is between the two, a lighter red, not quite pink that tells me you're feeling something sappy but don't know how to say it. It's beautiful."

Sam kissed each cheek as he finished speaking. Dean's eyes were closed this time when Sam pulled back. "Sam?" His voice came out warped through his tight throat, sounding so much younger than Sam had heard in years. "Please let me go."

Dropping his forehead to meet Dean's, Sam blew out a soft breath. "Oh Dean, I wish I could baby. I just want you to see how gorgeous you are. You don't have anything to hide, especially from me."

"Why are you doing this to me? Sammy, I don't–" His voiced choked off, eyes glistening with tears.

Sam had to force back his own tears. "You don't see yourself clearly Dean. What do you see in the mirror? Is it anything like what I just explained to you?" He searched Dean's face, watching closely. "If you can tell me honestly that you do, that you see someone beautiful looking back at you, then I'll untie you."

The angry tic reappeared in Dean's jaw, throbbing as he stared back at Sam. His arms pulled against the restraints. "Let me go!"

"When I'm through showing you how stunning you are." Sam replied firmly, but as gently as possible and carded his fingers through his brother's damp hair.

Tears leaked down the sides of Dean's face, fingernails biting into his palms, and red rings forming on his wrists from pulling against the ties. "Why is this so damn important to you? Fuck!"

Sam watched Dean writhe on the bed and even as his body recognized how hot it was, Sam just felt sad. He stroked his hand up Dean's flank, hoping to soothe his brother in some way. "You wanna know why it's important? It's important because I hate seeing you so down on yourself. You walk around with a cocky grin on your face most of the time and flirt with women fucking constantly, but it's all a front. For whatever reason, you don't like yourself, don't think you're attractive or worth it, and I can't let that go Dean. I just can't."

Sam searched Dean's face. He just wanted Dean to see the truth. His brother's brows drew together and Sam felt his heart shatter in his chest at his brother's next words. "Why?" Dean managed, the words sounding strangled. "We have sex! It's not like I'm depriving you of anything!"

Sam felt like he'd been stabbed and shot and then punched in the heart all at the same time. "Is that what you think this is?" His voice came out in a near whisper, all the air knocked out of his lungs. He forced a deep breath to keep himself from collapsing. "You think all I care about is the sex – what I can get out of this? Fuck, Dean! I don't care about the sex! I want you to see how truly perfect you are, to realize that you don't have to hide from me or anyone else. God, Dean." Sam bit his lip and dropped his head, fighting the urge to shake Dean until his words found a way through his thick skull.

Looking back up, he locked eyes with Dean. "I want you to really listen to what I'm saying. Cause I know you hear me, but I don't think you're listening. I _love_ you and you. _are_. beautiful…in so many ways." Dean turned his face into his arm.

Sam hated that Dean hid from him and turned his chin back to face him. "I'm just gonna keep telling you until you believe me, Dean." He watched his brother's face crumple within his grip and felt the tremble of his jaw, glassy eyes staring back at him. "I love you so much Dean and it kills me that you don't see how amazing you are," Sam whispered, his own eyes glazed with unshed tears.

Dean's chin trembled harder, despite how hard Sam knew his brother was fighting it, and Sam leaned down to kiss him, hovering for a moment before sinking down and sealing their mouths together. It was a gentle kiss, no more than a press of lips, no tongue or heated passion, just all the love Sam could possibly share with his brother in one simple moment. He pulled back, brushing one more kiss to Dean's lips, and then peppered kisses up the side of his face. Sam breathed in his brother's scent and leaned away, watching as a tear leaked out of Dean's eye. He stroked a hand through Dean's hair and bent back in, kissing away the wet streak.

"You know what else I find absolutely gorgeous?" Sam whispered, trailing a hand down the side of Dean's neck and up the backside of his shoulder, sweeping up to rest on his forearm, pulled taut with the restraint. "These. Right here," Sam said, squeezing the skin where his hand had stopped. "Your arms…Fuck, Dean, sometimes it's like watching porn the way your muscles ripple. But more than that, it's the strength in them. The way they help people, the way they comfort them."

Sliding his hands further up Dean's arms and matching his palms to Dean's clenched fists, Sam continued. "Your hands are pretty awesome too, Dean. As sharp as they are with a pool cue," Sam worked at unbending the curled fingers, "they're the most generous hands I've ever seen – quick to help people, to rescue them, calloused from working so hard for everyone but yourself".

Sam continued to whisper his praises to Dean, skating his fingers over skin, feeling out the smooth and calloused edges, brushing over scars and wounds that never quite healed right. Every time he finished worshiping one part of Dean's body, Sam would kiss the skin there, injecting that piece of his brother with all the love he could muster, moving on moments later to caress and praise another beautiful piece. He moved up and down his brother's body, refusing to give in to his body's growing need or his brother's desire to be released.

As Sam covered more of Dean's body, his older brother relaxed in increments, the tension slowly receding until Sam didn't feel like he was holding onto a brick wall anymore. There was no capitulation from Dean, no agreement that what he was saying was true, but Sam could feel the resistance weakening, the longing in his brother to believe him.

Hushed praises traced up arms and fingers, slipped over Dean's chest and the area that contained his heart, squeezed down muscled thighs and strong calves, to finally brush over the ticklish arches of calloused feet. Sam left Dean's groin as the last piece, knowing he needed to address this part of his appreciation the right way or he'd lose any bit of progress he'd managed to make with his brother. Dean's body shivered, oversensitive from Sam's caresses. He still refused to fully meet Sam's gaze, but seemed to know where Sam was heading, his muscles tensing, waiting.

As Sam brushed two fingers gently over the sensitized flesh of Dean's half-hard cock, he watched his lover's face, hoping it would remain slightly open. "You know this part of you is just as beautiful as the rest," he whispered, resting his chin on Dean's chest, hand stopping the caress and coming to rest on Dean's hip.

"That's what I've been told," Dean tried to joke, eyebrows waggling half-heartedly. Sam breathed deeply and continued.

"Don't you ever get tired of playing the clown?" Sam asked softly, eyes sad. Dean's eyes seemed to shutter at the rebuke. "I'm being serious, Dean. And I'm not talking about how big you are or how long you can hold out. Yeah, those things are positives too, but you're missing the point. It's not beautiful because it's big, it's beautiful because you use that part of you to connect with people. Sometimes that's your way of sharing yourself, the part of your body and the piece of your heart you know you can share without being rejected. Don't forget that I know you, Dean. I've watched you and looked up to you my whole life. When things get tough, you seek out sex, attention, whatever you want to call it, from other people. When Dad started expecting more of you, pushing you harder, you starting running after the girls in every town we went to."

Shaking his head, Sam paused, realizing he'd gone off on a bit of a tangent. He met Dean's eyes. "Your cock may look good, but it's beautiful because it's your way of sharing yourself and your love and how you're feeling." Sam finished his final speech with a kiss, pressing his lips just barely against the spongy head of Dean's cock.

Dean's hips rocked, but Sam pressed them back, sliding his body to rest alongside his brother's once more and searching out Dean's gaze. He found slightly glassy eyes and brushed a hand through the short strands of hair at Dean's temple.

"So I guess you think I'm pretty spectacular huh?" Dean's tone was jokey, but stifled by the tears Sam knew were clogging his throat. Pressing his lips together to prevent himself from snapping at his brother, Sam took a deep breath and closed his eyes, only opening them again when he knew he wouldn't say something he'd regret.

"Yeah Dean, I really do." He rested his forehead against Dean's cheek. There was a long moment of silence, eventually broken by a groan. "What's wrong?" Sam pulled back and noted the flush coloring his brother's cheeks. A quick scan and Sam knew what the problem was. He also knew he wasn't going to fix it, not right now. "This wasn't about sex, Dean. You understand that? I didn't touch you, didn't do all this to get you hard. When I let you go, you can take care of that if you want, but I'm not, I won't…"

Already flushed cheeks blushed more deeply, green eyes turning away from him. Dean just acknowledged the ramble with a small nod. Leaning forward, Sam sealed his lips over Dean's, gently taking his brother's mouth, before pulling back and reaching up for the silk ties. He released one hand and stopped, bringing the arm slowly down and massaging the reddened skin of his wrist. "I know you're probably not too happy with me right now, but I want you to promise me not to run. When I take your other arm down, I want you to stay here. You don't even have to talk to me right away, just please don't leave." Sam knew it was a long shot, knew he'd be lucky if Dean spoke to him in the next week, but he asked anyway.

Jaw clenched and gaze turned away, Dean nodded sharply. Sam sighed in relief, tucking the first arm against Dean's chest and reaching for the second one. When both arms were free and Sam had rubbed the feeling back into them both, Dean pulled his arms close to his chest and rolled over, turning his back to Sam. Sam closed his eyes against oncoming tears. "I love you Dean," he whispered, the words barely audible in the near silent room.

Sam didn't expect a response, so he was excited and at the same time horrified when he heard a sob echo in the room. "Oh Dean." Sam laid a hand on his brother's shoulder, brotherly instincts unable to let him ignore Dean's pain. Lying down beside Dean, his hand the only point of contact with his brother's body, Sam offered as much support as he could from a distance.

After a few long minutes of feeling his brother shake beside him, Sam scooted across the mattress, pressing his entire left side against Dean's back. Seconds later, Sam had an armful of sobbing brother. In so much emotional pain, Sam guessed Dean couldn't resist the comfort and accepted his tearful lover into his arms. Dean clung to him and Sam just pressed his brother's face into his neck and wrapped his arms as tightly around his back as he was able.

Wet tears smeared over Sam's collarbone, but he didn't care, didn't care that the skin of his chest was pinched in a desperate grasp, didn't care that a sharp knee was digging into his thigh. All he wanted was for his words to sink in and for his brother to finally get it – finally understand that he was beautiful and worth everything. If this was what it took, Sam would hold his brother for days on end without ever loosening his hold.

As Dean lay in Sam's arms, Sam rubbed his fingers through the fine hairs at Dean's nape, brushing in a rhythmic motion to soothe his brother like he'd once soothed Sam. From outside the window, Sam heard the raised voices of a couple outside, the stomp of boots and the clack of heels on concrete. He waited until the noises faded. "I'm sorry," he whispered into Dean's hair, continuing the soft strokes against his neck.

Dean sniffed and seemed to burrow his face deeper into the recess of Sam's shoulder. After a long moment, Sam finally heard Dean's breath hitch as if he were about to speak. "You mean it?" The words were almost pitiful, so full of hope, but said so softly Sam had to strain to hear them. He knew Dean wasn't talking about his apology, but the praises he'd whispered over his brother's body. It wasn't the first time that night Sam felt like the breath was knocked from his lungs. Even after all that, after everything they'd been through together, Dean still didn't – couldn't, believe how valued he was.

Forcing the words out through a tight throat, Sam told Dean, "I mean it. Every word I said." Sam felt his brother inhale and then nod shakily against him.

It certainly wasn't perfect, wasn't what Sam wanted, but he knew Dean would need more time and more reinforcement before he really started to believe what Sam wanted him to. Yeah, it wasn't perfect, but it was a small step. Sam would take it. For now.

Pressing a kiss to Dean's temple, Sam murmured, "Rest, Dean." For a little while, that small bit of progress would have to be enough. And over the next couple days he'd start the second part of his plan. Dean kissed Sam's throat and curled somehow tighter against his chest.

* * *

AN: Now that the first part of Sam's plan is complete, tell me how you think it went. Hopefully Sam wasn't too sappy here, but I wanted him to be intense about what he was saying and of course he had to be serious or Dean would be able to laugh it off too easily.


	5. Chapter 5

Some serious emotions are in play now that Sam's plan has finally begun. We've seen a little bit of progress, but Dean still has a ways to go. A little shorter this time, but hopefully just as satisfying.

* * *

The following morning, as the sun shone dimly into the room, Sam blinked awake to the still-warm feeling of his brother against his side. It was the first time in well, ever, that Sam had woken to his brother's naked body. Since their relationship had begun, Dean had either worn clothes to bed or gotten up long before Sam first opened his eyes. And really, why hadn't Sam noticed that before? Sam smiled and pressed gently on his brother's back, tugging the lean, muscled body tighter against his chest.

For just a little while longer, Sam hoped Dean would remain asleep. He wanted to enjoy the moment and definitely didn't mind pushing off the start of their day. Running his fingers lightly over Dean's shoulder blade, Sam fantasized about the day where there were no barriers between them, where Dean's lack of self-esteem no longer haunted their relationship. Sam hated the shadows that darkened Dean's eyes and he whispered a prayer that his words would break through.

As the sun rose gradually higher in the sky, Sam noticed the small movements that told him Dean would be awake soon. He held his breath as Dean nuzzled his face into his shoulder, too nervous to risk startling his brother and possibly scaring him away. Fingers fluttered against his side and then Dean's breathing changed and Sam knew he was awake. Seeming to freeze mid-breath, Dean was suddenly just as still as Sam, likely noticing his nakedness and recalling the previous night's events.

Dean rolled away and pushed himself up, snatching up clothes and moving immediately to shut himself away in the bathroom, his eyes never lifting past the floor. Sam let him go. He knew Dean would need time to process everything he'd been told last night. Sam also knew his brother would try to ignore it ever happened. For now, Sam would let him be, give him time to think things through, to gather himself, but he wouldn't let Dean avoid it altogether.

After over a half an hour, where Sam was almost sure Dean had locked himself in with the intention of never coming back out, Dean threw the bathroom door open and strolled out in a cloud of steam. He came out dressed in a blue Henley and jeans, scrubbing a towel over his hair. "Come on and get ready Sam. I wanna be out of here soon." He still wasn't meeting Sam's eyes.

"How about we stick around a couple days, Dean. There's a couple things we could do in the area and we don't have a new case lined up yet." Sam was crossing his fingers that Dean would agree. If he didn't, Sam was going to have to repurchase the other half of his materials for his plan to get through to Dean and hope that his brother didn't notice.

Still with his back to Sam, Dean nodded. "Yeah, sure Sam. I'm gonna go get food." He lifted his keys off the dresser and headed to the door, walking out without ever even looking Sam's way.

Sam forced a deep breath. He had known going into this that it wouldn't be easy – telling his brother things he didn't want to hear never was. He just hadn't been prepared for the guilt and the uncertainty. Trying to brush off the worry with a shake of his head, Sam headed in for his own shower.

Over the next two days, Sam and Dean kept their activities pretty separate. Dean didn't tell Sam "no" outright, but Sam knew his brother well enough to know when he was being brushed off. His brother disappeared from morning until the late afternoon, at which point he would fall into the couch in front of the TV and stay there until it was late enough to go to a bar.

Sam spent that time trying to ignore his worry, immersing himself in the local shops, and eating at the town diner by himself. As much as he tried to reign in the hurt and the fear for his brother, Sam knew he wasn't doing a good job. Dean was still avoiding his eyes when they were together and seemed to refuse any contact between them. He'd even "fallen asleep on the couch" as he'd explained it, Sam assumed to avoid being in bed together.

The third day after it happened followed nearly the same pattern, and for the third night in a row, Dean went out without him. Sam sprawled out on the bed with a book he'd been meaning to get to for the last couple months, a beer in hand. He was just getting to the height of the action, when Dean came barreling through the door, his body clumsy with alcohol, eyes squinted against the uneven lighting from the one lamp by the bed. Immediately, Sam set his beer on the nightstand and shoved a scrap of paper into his book to hold his place, shoving it to the side and standing, hands out to steady his brother if needed.

Dean darted to the side, or tried to dart. Really, he moved too quickly and his feet tangled, sending him crashing into the door behind him. Sam leaned forward to help, but Dean pulled away. "Don't," he ordered. Sam froze and stepped back, sighing inaudibly.

Eyes suddenly wide, Dean looked directly at Sam for the first time in three days. "Why'd you do it Sammy? Huh? Why'd you have to say all that and change everything?" His voice was at least an octave too high, words both angry and confused.

Unable to speak past the lump in his throat, Sam just stared at his brother, his broken lover. His lips pressed into a line and he took another step backwards, dropping down onto the mattress. Dean's eyes seemed to glow in the off lighting of the room, skin cast in shadows. So beautiful. And so damn oblivious.

Forcing a swallow, Sam tried to speak. "Because you're beautiful Dean, inside and out, and you deserve to hear it, to know it."

"I'm not." Dean shook his head. "I'm not."

"That – that right there – that's why I had to tell you Dean. 'Cause you don't see it. I told you all this the other night." Sam didn't want to be frustrated with his brother. He really didn't – but he was quickly realizing that his brother might be more stubborn than Sam knew how to handle. There were only so many ways Sam could tell Dean the same thing before they both wanted to punch him.

Dean looked away from Sam, but not before Sam saw his lips tremble. "C'mere, Dean," Sam whispered. After a few long seconds where it seemed like he wouldn't respond, Dean walked, more stumbled, to the bed, crawling up onto the mattress and curling up behind Sam where he was seated on the edge.

Turning so his right leg was tucked under his body, Sam faced Dean. His older brother was on his side, face pressed into the comforter, fingers bunched in the fabric, eyelashes clumped wetly on his cheeks. Sam reached out and stroked his fingers through Dean's hair, continuing the motion when Dean released a long breath and seemed to settle under his hand. With Dean's reaction the other night and how he was acting now, Sam was realizing that this experience for his brother was a lot more emotional than he had originally thought. He'd never seen Dean cry so much, but as much as it broke his heart, Sam would be grateful if it meant the walls were breaking.

For a long time, Sam stroked his fingers through Dean's hair, brushed the hair off his forehead, and thumbed away the few tears that escaped and streaked down his cheeks. Eventually, Sam pulled his whole body onto the bed and lay down beside his brother, leaving a little bit of space between them. "I love you Dean," he whispered, returning his hand to Dean's nape and starting the motion again.

Dean closed his eyes, breathing deeply, almost seeming to inhale the words. "Love you too Sammy." His whispered words were nearly inaudible. Moving abruptly, Dean tucked himself against Sam's side, face hidden, as the dam on his tongue seemed to break. "You're right you know. I don't see what you do. I don't see any of it. What I see is a guy trying to do his best with the shit life handed to him. I see a guy who saves a few people, but fails more often than not, who makes a mess of things, and hurts the people he loves. I see an asshole who doesn't know how to treat people, and who can't see past the faults staring him in the face."

Sam listened and kissed the top of Dean's head. "Everything you just described is what makes people human, Dean. Everyone makes mistakes. Sometimes people get hurt, but that's how life works."

"When other people make mistakes, people don't usually die as a result."

"Yeah, and most people don't have the pressure we do, Dean. Every hunter knows the risks of the job. You have to learn to see the good you do De'. You've helped so many people. How does that get past you, huh?" Sam rubbed Dean's back, kissing his head again. Dean just shook his head against Sam's neck. "I know it's hard. Believe me, I know…Can you promise me to try?"

After a long few seconds of silence, Dean nodded. "I promise." A puff of hot air covered Sam's throat. "Sammy? ...What if I can't do it?"

"Just try, Dean," Sam whispered, corners of his lips turning up in a small smile.

* * *

AN: Tensions are high, but Sam seems to be getting through. Final chapter will be posted soon to finish out Sam's plan. Let me know what you think so far :)


	6. Chapter 6

This is the final chapter! The second part of Sam's plan and Dean's in for a surprise. The break between chapters was a fair bit longer than I intended…oops! But I did start posting another story in the SPN fandom so go check it out :)

* * *

The following morning, Sam gradually reached consciousness, taking in the sleep-warm skin pressed against him, Dean's relaxed form adhered to his side, face resting on his chest. Sam smiled, lifting his hand to stroke the soft skin of his lover's back under his thin t-shirt. His fingertips barely made contact, but Dean's sensitive flesh rose into goose bumps at the touch.

Noting the angle of the sun slanting through the curtains, Sam knew it was going on late morning and he was glad they'd both managed to sleep so late. After the last few days of barely getting any sleep between them, the late hour made Sam more than happy. Continuing the gentle motions against Dean's back, Sam looked down at his brother's face, pleased to see how peaceful he looked, lashes fanned over heat-flushed cheeks, mouth open to release slow, even breaths.

After a little while of simply lying still and listening to Dean's breathing, Sam finally felt his brother start to stir. He forced himself not to tense, hoping Dean's reaction this morning would be more accepting than his response a few days earlier. Sam kept rubbing Dean's back, keeping up the soothing motion and made firmer contact as Dean fully woke. His lover turned his face into Sam's chest and kissed the skin there, squeezing the arm around Sam's waist tight as he did so. "Morning," whispered Sam, praying that speaking aloud wouldn't initiate any panic.

Dean's breath puffed against Sam's chest. "Morning," he whispered back even more quietly. A long pause hung between them. "I'm sorry about the last few days."

"You've got nothing to be sorry for, Dean. You needed some time. There's nothing wrong with that." Dean nodded, fingers playing along Sam's ribs. Sam lifted a hand to stop the nervous motion, stilling Dean's fingers with his own, threading them together. "Are you still willing to try?" Sam was hoping Dean remembered their conversation from the night before. As luck would have it, he seemed to, though when he lifted his head, his green eyes looked vaguely fearful.

"I don't know if I can do it Sam. How do I just believe you when…" His voice choked off.

Sam carded his free hand through Dean's hair, dragging his hand back to cup Dean's cheek. "All I ask is that you try. Trust me. Trust that I won't lie to you." Sam's hazel eyes implored Dean to agree, pleaded with his brother to believe in him.

Dean's jaw clenched, but he nodded. His fingers clasped tightly around Sam's. Sam squeezed right back, reassuring his brother. Dean took a deep breath and dropped back down, tucking his face into Sam's neck, kissing the skin there softly as Sam's arms wrapped firmly around his body.

Content to just lay in bed with his lover, Sam insisted they stay there the rest of the day, getting up only to use the bathroom and pay the delivery man for the food they called in. As the day wore on, Dean seemed to lose some of the lingering vulnerability from their earlier conversations and laughed with Sam. They talked, about anything but the issue they were dealing with, and touched each other, kissing heatedly for long bouts of time though it never escalated further. They were both simply happy to be intimate with each other, close again after a few long days apart.

After finishing the pizza they ordered, they curled up together, legs entwined, and eventually felt sleep pulling at their eyelids. Holding Dean snugly in his arms, Sam felt his lover's breaths even out and let himself follow soon after.

When Sam opened his eyes it was going on dusk, the light in the room dim and softly filtering through the white curtains. The setting sun cast a warm glow outside, the last bits of daylight giving the room a hazy feeling. With the way Dean had acted today and his promise to try, Sam knew it was time for the second part of his plan. He gently unwound Dean's fingers from his arm, sliding out from under his brother's body and leaving him to settle in the heated spot he left behind.

Watching for a long moment to make sure his lover still slept, Sam reluctantly moved away and crouched down, pulling out his purchase from under the bed. He lifted the long object and stood it upright, glancing at Dean every few seconds to verify he was still sleeping. Readjusting it a few times and stepping back to make sure it was positioned properly, Sam finally felt satisfied. He looked to Dean. It was time.

Crawling up from the foot of the bed, Sam situated himself beside Dean, smiling when his brother's freckled nose wrinkled into the pillowcase. Sam reached down the side of the bed and rummaged around in his duffle, a grin flitting across his face as he pulled out what he needed.

Coming back up with his FBI impersonator tie, Sam leaned over Dean, ever so gently lifting his head to slide the thin fabric underneath. When it was in position, Sam pulled the two ends together and tied them, pulling the material snug but not too tight to form a blindfold over Dean's eyes. Satisfied that Dean's vision was cut off for the time being, Sam gripped Dean's arm and pulled, rolling his brother's body towards him. He wanted Dean on his back for this.

With Dean face-up on the mattress, Sam now had access to his stomach and he took full advantage. He pressed Dean's t-shirt up to his ribs and dragged his fingers back down over smooth skin, thumb brushing his hipbone at the bottom, loving the jut of bone that pressed through the skin and just screamed sexy. Dean's breath hitched. Another gentle brush of his hand up Dean's side and back down and Dean was awake, body tensing in the forced darkness.

"Trust me, remember?" Sam chided, continuing his caress. He felt Dean relax under his hand, a sharp exhale puffing over Sam's face.

"Wha's goin' on?" Dean mumbled.

Sam kissed Dean's temple. "We're going to try something a bit different." He said, brushing his thumb just under Dean's navel. "You said you'd trust me. Can you do that?" Dean swallowed heavily, but managed a small nod. If Sam could see Dean's eyes, he knew they'd be showing his fear right then. If Dean was afraid of anything it was going into something without being in control.

"Sit up for me," Sam prompted, pushing his hand into the small of Dean's back. When Dean remained still, Sam nudged him, and then Dean was pushing himself up, looking beautiful but awkward and stiff in the center of the mattress without his vision.

Sam climbed to the edge of the mattress and urged Dean forward, helping him get situated so his legs hung down over the foot of the bed. "I'm gonna get you undressed now, okay?" He wasn't asking, not really, but he knew Dean would feel better if it sounded like he was being given the choice. Dean again gave a short, small nod. "Arms up." In seconds, Dean's t-shirt was up and over his head and Sam was dropping it to the floor, running his hands over Dean's sides in a soothing gesture.

"So beautiful," he murmured, and a little more loudly, "lift your hips." Dean's cheeks flushed red, but he did as asked, pushing his feet against the floor so he could stand temporarily. Sam dragged the boxers over his legs and nudged Dean to sit back down. Fully undressed, Dean was starting to look pretty uncomfortable, his hands curled into the comforter next to his legs, face angled at the floor even though he couldn't see.

Sam fit himself behind Dean on the bed, scooting up so his chest pressed to Dean's back, legs spread so they dangled down on either side of his brother. He stroked his hands up and down Dean's arms, moving slowly to calm his brother's racing heart and leaned in so his chin rested on Dean's shoulder. "Ready?" he whispered.

Still not speaking, Dean nodded. Sam let go of Dean's arms and dug his fingers into the knot of the tie. Pulling the two ends free of each other, Sam slowly dropped the tie from in front of Dean's eyes, that too falling to the floor. His eyes were only for Dean at the moment and he watched as Dean blinked in the new lighting and then seemed to freeze completely – like a rabbit in the sights of a predator. Dean's eyes widened so they seemed to take up half of his face, his mouth rounding in protest, head starting to shake side to side. "N-" he started before Sam cut him off.

"Shhh, Dean. It's okay. Trust me, remember?" Dean's head was still moving, telling Sam 'no'. Sam held onto his lover, rubbing his sides, keeping their bodies close together. Before them, at the foot of the bed, was a full-length three-way mirror. In it, he could see the fear welling up in Dean's eyes, the slight trembling that had just started only barely visible. "All I want you to do right now is look at yourself. Just look." Dean's eyes started darting all over the place after being given the instruction, his gaze unable to stop on any one spot for longer than a second. Sam could see how uncomfortable Dean was, but part of this process was working past that. His hands never left Dean's skin, never stopped the soothing caresses over his arms and sides, even brushing over his thighs.

"Lean into me," he whispered at Dean's ear, "relax." Hesitantly, Dean leaned back, turning his face towards Sam's neck at the same time. Sam used two fingers to nudge him back. "Trust me," he reminded again. After Dean seemed to settle some, Sam released a deep breath.

"Sammy…I don't know if…I don't think I can–" Sam hushed him.

"You can, Dean. We're gonna start simple. I'm gonna touch you and you're gonna tell me what you see. All I ask is that you be honest."

"What I see." Dean seemed to be testing the words. Sam smiled and nodded, pressing a kiss to Dean's jaw.

Brushing the very tips of his fingers over Dean's arms, Sam felt his brother shiver in his hold. He continued the feather-light motion until Dean spoke softly. "My skin – there's goose bumps everywhere."

Sam nodded. "What does that tell you?" Dean shrugged, shifting in Sam's hold. "Alright, what would it tell you if you were looking at me?"

"It would mean you feel good." Sam could tell his lover was having a hard time speaking, barely keeping himself from running away.

"That's good De'. What else do you see?" Sam pressed a little harder this time, dragging his fingers up Dean's belly, grazing over his heart and dropping back down.

Swallowing thickly, Dean tilted his head, making himself watch his own body in the mirror. "My muscles are tight. They kind of…tense, when you rub over them."

"Good," whispered Sam hotly into his brother's neck, warm breath puffing over Dean's ear. Dean's head dropped back slightly, eyes fighting to stay on the mirror. When they veered off and remained focused on the wall across from the bed, Sam reached up and nudged Dean back into place. "You can do this." Dean's gaze was still flitting across the mirror, but he was focusing for prolonged moments more and more.

"My pupils are really big now. Fuck, they're huge. And my eyes feel heavy – they look… _I_ look fucked out." Sam's hand journeyed back up, this time joined by the other, tweaking Dean's nipples, thumbs brushing over the small nubs, flicking near relentlessly over the puckered flesh. A small moan broke free from Dean's throat. "Shit, my nipples are so hard, wrinkled and…and kind of red now…and fuck," he panted. Sam finally released the tender flesh and dropped lower, one hand cupping the taper of Dean's waist, the other teasing at the crease between groin and thigh. A breathy sigh passed Dean's lips. "My lips are kinda swollen. Crap, I've been biting them – feels good, Sammy. Oh god, my dick is getting hard…so hard." Dean's words got even quieter as his head started to drop back.

"Nuh-uh. Come on De'. Tell me what your cock looks like – I know you can feel it getting hard, but describe it Dean. Make me see it through your eyes."

Fingers bit into Sam's thigh, but he didn't mind. Dean seemed to wrestle with his tongue for a moment, but after a few long seconds of hesitation, the broken stream of words picked up again. "It-It's not super big, but it's thick and it's lifting off my thighs. Shit, the head is so red, and it's pulsing – I can see my blood throbbing in the vein underneath. Fuck!" Sam's fingers tickled at the base, just barely brushing the sensitive skin there. "I'm starting to leak. God, there's so much…I can't sit still…and my hips keep lifting. Sammy, please."

"You're doing so good Dean. Not done yet though. Keep going."

Dean gave a small nod, breathing heavily before forcing himself to speak. "My chest is all red – it's spreading up from my belly. My cheeks are super red too – almost can't see my freckles." Sam knew Dean was really outside his usual headspace then. If his brother was more focused or reserved like he usually was, he never – not in a million years – would have mentioned his freckles. He was convinced they didn't exist, or at least that's what he told people.

Sam stroked lightly over his lover's cock, massaging the pre-come into the tender head. Dean panted, chest heaving, fingers tightening even more into the skin of Sam's leg. "My toes are curling. Shit, never realized how hot that is. There's sweat on my chest and I can feel it on the backs of my knees." He panted, sucking in air before continuing. "Mmm, my back's arching, can't keep my hips still. Fuck, oh god." Sam gently cupped Dean's balls, rubbing at the skin right behind them. Dean moaned loudly, head flopping back onto Sam's shoulder.

"Little more Dean," Sam urged, nudging his brother's head back up as the other hand still kneaded softly at sensitive, blood-thick skin. Barely any pressure and Dean was near desperate. Sam knew it was Dean's own words more than the physical sensations that were bringing him close to the edge.

"My dick is twitching, god it's so hard. I swear the head is turning purple." Sam pressed his fingers lower, nudging Dean's thighs apart, and tentatively brushed over his lover's hole. It was always a toss-up how his brother would react. His hope at that moment was that his brother was so preoccupied he would allow Sam the exploration. As his one finger traced the rim, Dean pushed down, eyes dropping in the mirror to find the new sensation.

"Feels good. My thighs are so tense, god, and my hole – can see it twitching, just a little. Fuck, my balls are drawing up – 's hot. Shit."

Giving a little more pressure, Sam slipped the one finger inside his lover up to the first knuckle. Dean's breath choked off in his throat before releasing in a long moan, head dropping back, hips lifting off the bed, feet pushing off the floor, dick twitching hard as he came, thick white streaks coating his stomach.

Sam slid his arms around Dean, enveloping him in the warmth and comfort of his little brother. Tense with the pleasure coursing through his system, Dean seemed ignorant to everything else, soft whimpers the only sound in the room. "Shhh, Dean. You did so good baby. God, you're amazing – see that? You are so beautiful and all you had to do was look for it. Made yourself come didn't you De'? Talked yourself to orgasm just looking at how beautiful you are." Sam kissed his brother's cheek and his throat, sucking a light mark into Dean's shoulder before pulling away.

Whimpers having stopped, Dean now sat limply in Sam's hold. After a long few minutes of nothing, Sam finally felt Dean start to fidget, head moving restlessly on Sam's shoulder. "Ready to move Dean?" His lover managed a nod. "Okay, just a second. I want you to look at one more thing." Sam reached up to help Dean lift his head, supporting him so his lover could see what he looked like now.

Dean shut his eyes, trying to turn away. "Don' wanna," he said, sounding quite similar to a petulant child.

"Dean. Please." With a soft sigh, Dean's eyes fluttered open. "Now tell me what you see."

Dean seemed to be fighting the urge to look away, but he held his gaze on the mirror. "I-my hair is wild," he laughed quietly, "like crazy sex hair."

"Mmm, and?" Sam encouraged, trying to keep his hands still this time.

"And…there's sweat everywhere, it's dripping down my temples…I guess it looks kind of cool – my whole body's sorta shiny…feel's gross though." Sam chuckled, kissing the skin behind Dean's ear. His brother's voice sounded a little drunk, slurred from pleasure, dragging over some of the words. Sam waited while Dean worked up to speaking again.

"My nipples are still hard." Dean sounded almost surprised and kind of awestruck, gasping when he lifted a hand and brushed over one. "Shit, they're sensitive – never realized before..." Dean trailed off distracted, fingers still lightly rubbing over the raised nub, eyes entranced as he watched his body react in the mirror. Sam let him have a moment and then he bumped his arm, a gentle reminder to move on.

Startled, Dean's eyes shot to Sam's in the mirror, a deep blush flooding his cheeks. Sam rewarded him with a wide grin and a kiss to his cheek. "Keep going. Then, if you want, we can go back and explore your body however long you want."

Dean's blush somehow managed to darken. "Okay…my stomach is still really tense, I can see the muscles flexing…and my come – shit, it's everywhere," A groan escaped Dean's lips, a sound of both embarrassment and admiration.

"Why does that bother you, De'?"

"It doesn't…bother me. It's just embarrassing as fuck."

"Why's it embarrassing? It tells _me_ you were enjoying yourself, that your body was feeling good. Seems like a healthy reaction to me."

"Dammit, Sam." Dean ducked his head, avoiding Sam's eyes. "Why are we even talking about this? It's all over my stomach and hallway up my chest – look's like I can't control myself."

"Hmm, orgasms aren't supposed to be controlled Dean. It's one of the few times your body is allowed to be completely carefree. You shouldn't try and control it."

"Okay. I got it. Thanks. Let's move on." Sam pressed his lips together, but nodded. "Great…my legs are shaking a little. They were doing it more a minute ago. Guess that's how you know it was good…"

"Anything else?" Dean shook his head. "Good. You did amazingly Dean. I know this doesn't fix anything, but I'm hoping it helps a little. I want you to promise me something. Can you do that?"

"What is it?"

Sam smiled. "I want you to promise me that you'll keep trusting me and if we're doing something that's making you feel embarrassed or insecure, I want you to think about if you would want your partner – if you would want _me_ – to do what you're having trouble with."

Dean stared at his lap, still leaning against Sam's chest. "So, if I don't want to get naked one night, you want me to ask myself if I would want you naked?"

Sam nodded. "That's pretty much it. And if you're still struggling with something, tell me Dean. I'm not going to have a problem with helping you work through something. If you can't do it one day, okay, fine. We'll work on getting you through it another day. Everyone needs a break sometimes. We'll get there, okay? Sound good?"

Inhaling deeply, Dean nodded, and then exhaled. "Kay, Sammy. I promise I'll keep working on it."

"That's all I ask. How are you feeling?'

"Like I really need a shower. And maybe a burger. Yeah, that sound's fantastic right now." Dean groaned, head lolling back on Sam's shoulder.

Laughing, Sam shimmied forward, pushing Dean to his feet and standing behind him in front of the mirror. He held Dean close and kissed his hair. "Thank you for trusting me Dean." A light blush filed his brother's cheeks once more, but Dean met his eyes and nodded, swallowing thickly.

Sam felt so relieved in this moment than he felt his breaths coming easier. He had hoped his plan would work, but until now, he'd been terrified that all it would do is push Dean away. Now, with the progress they'd made, Sam could feel the grin threatening to split his face, but forced it back, knowing too much excitement still had the potential to scare Dean off. Instead, he continued to hold Dean close.

After a long moment of staring at each other in the mirror, Dean turned in Sam's hold. He wrapped his arms around Sam's waist, raising his face and sealing his lips over Sam's. Sam welcomed him gladly, pressing his hands into Dean's back to keep him as close as physically possible. A few kisses later, Sam pulled back, angling his forehead to meet Dean's. "Let's go take that shower," he whispered. Dean's eyes just about glowed as he took Sam's hand and dragged Sam behind him into the bathroom. Sam grinned and laughed. After all this time, he was finally getting his first shower with Dean. Spinning the knob, Sam waited for the water to warm and then hefted Dean inside, pushing his brother against the tiled wall, and yanked the curtain shut behind them as he sealed his lips over Dean's.

* * *

So this is the end…and I'm kind of sad to write those words. This last chapter really seemed to wrap things up though, so it's time to start on a new story and finish the one I started posting recently. I've got lots of ideas rolling around, so fingers crossed I'll have a new one started soon! Hope you enjoyed this as much as I did.


End file.
